


seduction to the light

by wrennette



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dooku isn't very good at being a Sith in this, Fellatio, M/M, Obi-Wan's a bit of a honeytrap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: At Geonosis, Obi-Wan agrees to join his Master's Master long before his potential rescuers arrive.





	seduction to the light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluedragoninamber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedragoninamber/gifts).



> for bluedragoninamber, who gives me such wonderful encouragement.
> 
> i began writing this quite some time ago, and have kept banging away hoping it would get longer. alas, that was not to be. you may notice some similarities between this and the beginning of my fic coruscating shadows, as they were begun around the same time period as different possibilities i wanted to explore on other choices that could have been made on geonosis. what happens to anakin and padme in this universe? i haven't the slightest idea. let's pretend it leads eventually to a happily ever after for everyone but sidious.

Trapped within the containment field, Obi-Wan opened himself to the Force, feeling Dooku’s Darkness-clouded presence, the almost predatory nature of the Force-blind Geonosians further away. He had hoped not to confront Dooku, certain the former Jedi was more than his match, but it seemed the Force had laid another path at Obi-Wan’s feet. The Force would be Obi-Wan’s only ally in this confrontation, as he was utterly unable to move, and furthermore without any weapon save his canny words and prodigious intellect. 

Obi-Wan breathed deep, and when he opened his eyes again, they were hard and flat with his steadfast determination. Subsumed as he was in the Force though, Obi-Wan could hear the sincerity that rang in Dooku’s ominous tones as the Count of Serenno spoke. A Sith Lord in charge of the Senate, at the heart of the Republic. Obi-Wan didn’t want to believe it, but he could _taste_ Dooku’s belief. Either someone had convincingly lied to Dooku, or the Count told the truth.

“Join me,” Dooku urged, and Obi-Wan hesitated. The Force was still, waiting. This was a point of divergence then; the decision Obi-Wan made would have immeasurable impact moving forward, and the Force would not guide him. The choice was his. Obi-Wan felt the pendulum of fate swing and swallowed, mind racing, then let his eyes fall closed and his head bow in submission. Something eased in him. It was no great affirmation or upwelling of the Force to affirm his course, but somewhere, a knot had teased itself loose, smoothing the path at Obi-Wan’s feet.

“Apprentice,” Dooku proudly claimed him, and deactivated the machine that restrained Obi-Wan. Reaching out, Dooku caught Obi-Wan as he tumbled from the containment field. Gently Dooku helped Obi-Wan gain his feet, and steadied him. Obi-Wan looked up into Dooku’s face fully for the first time, and found not the Sith-yellow eyes he had feared, but deep brown irises filled with warmth. “Come little one, I have much to teach you.” Obi-Wan nodded mutely, and fell automatically into the place of a Padawan at their Master’s shoulder, a few steps back and to the side, leaving the Master’s sword arm free as Dooku led him from the room where he had been held captive.

“This man is not to be bothered, he is under my protection,” Dooku told the Geonosians firmly. “Anyone who comes looking for him is to be captured with least harm, and myself notified.” With that, Dooku led the way to a sleek _Punworcca 116_ class interstellar sloop. It was a beautiful craft, with a curving hull that reminded Obi-Wan of a giant seedpod. A pilot droid was already preparing it for launch when they boarded, and Obi-Wan let himself be led to the bunk area. There was only a single berth, without any trappings of wealth. Despite his elevated station, Count Dooku evidently retained the ascetic tastes of the Jedi. When Dooku sat himself on the cushioned bunk, Obi-Wan went to his knees alongside, making no move toward the lightsaber that had been placed on the mattress at Dooku’s side. 

“I know you are and always will be a Jedi, that you will not Fall,” Dooku said quietly, his long fingers carding through Obi-Wan’s gold streaked russet hair. “I am glad of it in truth. No matter your faith though, you are still and always will be my legacy. I regret I did not see to more of your training myself, although I do not think you have suffered for it. I regret only that you had to take a Padawan so young. You should have been given time to adjust. The boy would have been safe in the creche for a time.”

“It was my Master’s will,” Obi-Wan said only, the passage of years having allowed him to meditate away the pain of that last order. Loyalty and obedience had long been his most remarked upon traits, and Obi-Wan had, to a degree, prided himself on those traits. This decision - his defection - would throw the Council for a loop. 

“Your master was a hard-headed son of a gundark,” Dooku said quellingly. He let out a soft exhale. “It seems to be a failing throughout our lineage.” Obi-Wan looked up then, smiling slightly at his grandmaster. There had been a thread of affection there, and while still wary, Obi-Wan began to believe his grandmaster truly desired his assistance. And even if this was a ploy, even if this man truly was Sith, was it not Obi-Wan’s sworn duty to learn all he could and destroy him? What better place to do that from than that of trusted apprentice. He would learn all he could, and if his Grandmaster was a Sith, Obi-Wan would excise him.

“I am yours to command my Master, although it is likely I will prove to be twice over as stubborn,” Obi-Wan warned with a charming little smile. Dooku smiled in return at that, smoothing the hair behind Obi-Wan’s ear where a Padawan’s braid would rest. “That honour is yours too, should you wish it, my Master,” Obi-Wan offered gently, and Dooku’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Sit beside me,” Dooku ordered gruffly. “The Force provides, but it does not make my knees young again.” Obi-Wan dipped his head in obedience and rose, settling at his new Master’s side on the sleeping bench. Gently Dooku parted out a length of hair and plaited it, murmuring the ancient rites under his breath. 

Obi-Wan sank into the Force, accepting the mental touch and returning it, helping Dooku plait a Master and Padawan bond between their minds even as he wove the external symbol into Obi-Wan’s hair. By controlling his own end, Obi-Wan ensured a certain level of privacy within the bond. Despite that, the bond itself, by simple existence settled something in Obi-Wan, healed a wound he had long accustomed himself to bearing. The unanticipated but so very welcome relief from that long carried psychic pain undid him, and he had to let go of their bond, collapsing against his new Master in silent tears.

“Oh, dear one,” Dooku murmured, cradling Obi-Wan to his chest and carding his fingers through soft ginger hair. “Dear one, I had not realized you still carried this hurt, or I would have called you to my side years ago. Grieve, let yourself feel it. You cannot push this aside, it is too deep a wound, and you have let it fester too long dear one. Grieve, and lance the wound. I have you now.” Obi-Wan obeyed, releasing those last walls inside himself and letting himself mourn his Master as he had never before permitted himself.

The tears subsided slowly, and Dooku gently cupped Obi-Wan’s cheek, dark eyes reading the Jedi’s face. Obi-Wan remained still, his face warm with embarrassment at his breakdown, feeling rather awkward and splotchy. Dooku smiled softly though, and leaned in to brush light kisses over Obi-Wan’s cheeks and nose and eyelids. Obi-Wan relaxed slowly, accepting the affection and savouring it, clinging to his new Master. 

Dooku’s lips, thin and dry, brushed against Obi-Wan’s, and he made a split second decision. Obi-Wan opened to his new Master, a gentle offer of greater intimacy. Dooku groaned deeply, hands cupping Obi-Wan’s face into position, then kissed him thoroughly. Obi-Wan mewled, clinging to Dooku as his mouth was ravished. Oh - oh, he had offered, but he had never expected - arousal was like a punch to the gut, and Obi-Wan practically climbed into Dooku’s lap, frotting against him eagerly. 

“Little one,” Dooku husked, “Oh, I never - my beauty,” he murmured, and kissed Obi-Wan again, laying down in the bunk and dragging Obi-Wan down with him. 

“Please,” Obi-Wan murmured, nuzzling into Dooku’s beard, nipping at his jaw and sucking his earlobe, leaving swift bites and soft swipes of the tongue against Dooku’s neck. 

“Yes,” Dooku agreed, and they fumbled out of their clothing, dropping their garments on the floor. Gods, Obi-Wan thought, kneeling up to look at the man he was about to take as a lover. Dooku was beautiful, in a spare, ascetic way. His chin length white hair had ruffled from its neat combed-back styling, and haloed his lean face against the pillow. His shoulders were broad, and his chest and arms still defined despite that he had to be at least thirty years Obi-Wan’s senior. His stomach had gone a bit soft, but everything else about him was long and lean and borderline predatory. 

“Gods,” Obi-Wan breathed, and ducked down to kiss the valley of Dooku’s sternum. “I don’t even know your given name,” he laughed against Dooku’s belly, then licked at the hollow of his hip.

“Jan,” Dooku growled. Obi-Wan smiled mischievously up at Jan, then leaned down and licked slowly around the crown of his cock, swirling his tongue like it was an ice cream treat. 

“Jan,” Obi-Wan purred. “How do you feel about getting fucked?” Keeping eye contact, he lowered his head slowly, sucking Jan’s cock into his mouth, licking eagerly as he took every centimetre, his throat opening around the slick, spongy head as he swallowed. 

“Oh kriff,” Jan swore softly. “I think even if I wasn’t in favour of it, you’d likely change my mind,” he admitted. With the hand on the room side of the bunk, he fumbled blindly with the handles of the under-bunk storage, and soon managed to open the compartment and summon his tube of lube. Carefully he eased his legs from beneath Obi-Wan’s, parting his thighs to grant the Jedi some room. Obi-Wan hummed softly, stealing the lube deftly from Jan’s hand. 

Pleasure made lights spark behind Jan’s eyes, and he tried to push up into Obi-Wan’s hot, wet mouth. The Force settled over him, tinged with Obi-Wan’s bright, warm presence, and Jan couldn’t move an inch except when and where Obi-Wan allowed. Jan groaned, unexpectedly aroused by the loss of control. Any idiot could see Obi-Wan was desirable, and while that beauty and charisma weren’t the reason Jan had recruited the Jedi, he certainly wasn’t going to complain about having a handsome and willing young lover in his bed. 

Gentle pressure between Jan’s legs spread him open wider, and then the pressure was at his anus. Fear ripped through him for a moment. It had been so long, years since he had had a lover at all and longer yet since he’d trusted one with this intimacy. Likely feeling his spike of panic, Obi-Wan withdrew slightly, easing the pressure at Jan’s anus and watching him carefully. 

“I will not hurt you,” Obi-Wan said gently. “I derive no pleasure from others’ pain. I want you to feel good my Master. I want to make both of us feel _very_ good.” His voice dropped nearly a whole register into a husky purr, and Jan moaned, rocking against Obi-Wan’s fingers unbidden and impaling himself slightly. “It feels good doesn’t it?” Obi-Wan encouraged, allowing Jan to move his hips as he pleased. “Stretching you open. I’m going to fill you up,” Obi-Wan promised, “ease that ache so deep inside you.”

“What - what magic,” Jan gasped, grinding himself deeper onto Obi-Wan’s slick finger. Because it did, it felt so good, and he was - so very empty. It had been so long since he had been filled.

“No magic,” Obi-Wan promised. “I know no magic, only that you open up so beautifully Jan. You feel so good wrapped around me, like warm satin, and so tight. It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Jan moaned, relaxing and allowing Obi-Wan to do as he pleased, surrendering the last of his control into Obi-Wan’s hands. Obi-Wan kissed the hollow of his hip, the inside of his thigh, and then licked over his balls before sucking them into his mouth even as he slid another finger into Jan. Jan moaned, writhing minutely, already almost unbearably close to orgasm. 

“Easy now,” Obi-Wan murmured, and slowly pressed a third finger in. Jan cried out as his prostate was gently rubbed, his cock leaking against his stomach. “You’re doing so well,” Obi-Wan encouraged, milking Jan’s prostate steadily. Jan was practically crying, overwhelmed with pleasure as his spurted again and again. 

“Almost there,” Obi-Wan murmured, “you’re so close.” Jan keened softly, and then Obi-Wan was over him, inside him, in to the hilt with a single thrust, and the almost-orgasm Jan had been experiencing for the last few moments exploded into ecstatic pleasure unlike anything he’d ever before experienced. Jan cried out, clenching helplessly around Obi-Wan, pinned to the bunk and coming harder than he ever had in his life. 

“Obi-Wan,” Jan gasped, staring wide eyed up at his new lover, and then moaned, arching his back as Obi-Wan moved inside him. 

“Hmmm?” Obi-Wan hummed mildly, his hips slowly pushing into Jan. 

“Ah,” Jan gasped, thought leaving his head for a moment as pleasure shot sharply up his spine to explode behind his eyes. “Ah, please, may I touch you?” he requested, and the Force eased around him. Jan moaned, reaching up to run his fingers over Obi-Wan’s strong chest, stroking at the soft auburn hair there, then following the curve of his muscles up to his freckled shoulders and arms. Obi-Wan leaned in, kissing Jan thoroughly, balancing with his forearms on either side of Jan’s head. 

“So handsome,” Obi-Wan murmured, rubbing their noses together. Jan flushed, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan and clinging. 

“You’re the beautiful one,” Jan deflected, and then moaned as his sensitive prostate was targeted on the next thrust. 

“I suppose we must have different tastes then,” Obi-Wan teased, and kissed Jan again before pushing back up. Raising one of Jan’s legs from where it was looped around his waist, Obi-Wan kissed the older man’s bony knee, then began to speed his rhythm, fucking deeper and harder until Jan was utterly wrecked beneath him, incoherent with pleasure and desperate for more. Balancing himself on one hand, Obi-Wan used the other to roughly stroke Jan’s half-hard and orgasm tender cock. Jan howled, coming dry. He clenched down as he surrendered, and Obi-Wan drove hard into his tight heat, his own orgasm wrenching up out of him. 

Awareness returned in dribs and drabs. Jan moaned softly as he began registering the world around him. He was in his familiar bunk on the Solar Sailor. What was _not_ familiar was the warm weight against his chest, legs tangled with his own. He shifted, and his body reminded him he’d just been thoroughly fucked for the first time in more than a decade. And that he’d half-forgotten how very good it felt to just let go and let someone else do the hard work. He smiled crookedly, nuzzling down at the head tucked beneath his. 

Obi-Wan. That had certainly been unexpected. A wave of fondness swept through Jan. Unexpected, and so very good. He had never imagined that seducing someone to the Dark might be quite so literal. And he had never imagined either that a handsome young man like Obi-Wan might desire him. Gently he ran his hands down Obi-Wan’s back, a touch of healing in his fingers as he eased the welts he had scratched into Obi-Wan’s flesh. 

“Mmm, you could have left them, they’d have been a lovely reminder,” Obi-Wan purred, nuzzling up under Jan’s chin. Obi-Wan shifted up over Jan and kissed him thoroughly. 

“Perhaps another time,” Jan said softly, looking up at Obi-Wan with something like awe and a great deal of fondness. “I - I never imagined,” he started, and Obi-Wan ducked down to kiss him again, his own heart softening at the pain and wonder and affection in Jan’s eyes. This was no Sith, Obi-Wan thought. Fallen perhaps, but no true Sith. A Sith might gain power through passion, but he doubted there was anything to be gained through the vulnerability of love. The Force agreed; this man loved if not him the idea of him, and needed him desperately as both a lover and a lifeline. 

“I should like that,” Obi-Wan murmured, and kissed Jan again. Jan opened to him beautifully, and Obi-Wan felt his own heart lurch. “This is meant to be my Master, can you not feel it?” he murmured, cuddling against Jan. 

“I feel it,” Jan affirmed, hugging the smaller man against him. The webs of Sith induced fear and paranoia had been swept from him beneath the fierce Light of Obi-Wan’s compassion and belief. “Although how I shall hide it from _my_ Master I do not know.” 

“ _Your_ Master needs a swift kick in the pants,” Obi-Wan groused, and started when Jan crowed delightedly.

“He probably does,” Jan agreed. “But he is dangerous yet my dear, and not only physically. When he speaks - forgive me for accusing you of using his tricks against me. Only - his mouth opens, and he could claim the Jedi way was murder and deception, and it would be difficult to disagree.”

“I will be at your side now my Master,” Obi-Wan swore firmly but softly. “Together, we will make things right.”

“The Jedi,” Jan temporalized, and Obi-Wan sighed, kneeling up, straddling Jan’s waist and pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Stars you’re beautiful,” Jan murmured, reaching out and rubbing his hands up the firm muscle of Obi-Wan’s thighs to rest at his hips. “You’re far too good for me dear one. And the Jedi will want you back.”

“It is true that they will want me back, especially as I managed to get a message to my Padawan before your droids captured me,” Obi-Wan said with a small, warm smile. “And if Anakin is up to his usual antics, he’s probably arguing in favour of barnstorming Geonosis as we speak. Hopefully, someone grounds him until he cools off a little. The rest, well, they’ve come to expect such adventures from me, although you’re quite the catch. Usually the unfortunates I adopt aren’t nearly so handsome.” Jan blushed furiously, and Obi-Wan cupped his cheek gently. 

“What’s this? The famously arrogant Jan Dooku is shy?” Obi-Wan teased, and Jan turned away. Obi-Wan realized his mistake immediately, leaning in to drop sweet kisses against as much of Jan’s face as he could reach, kissing away the tears that welled up in dark eyes. “Dear heart, I apologize,” Obi-Wan said sincerely. “You _are_ shy aren’t you? You aren’t purposefully aloof at all.” He laid himself back along Jan’s long body, holding him tenderly. 

“It can be terribly isolating, being the Padawan of a legend like Yoda,” Jan said quietly. “I do not resent it, how could I, when I love the old troll so dearly? No one else can infuriate me quite like he does. But he does not - he doesn’t quite understand humans I don’t think, and I’m not sure _I_ understand humans either. It was always easier to just - hide myself away in treatises on esoteric uses of the Force or bury myself in learning and then Mastering an all but extinct form of combat.”

“Oh Jan,” Obi-Wan sighed, and kissed his forehead. “I will be with you now,” he reiterated, and they curled together for a while longer. It was some hours more to Serenno, time Obi-Wan remained at his new Master’s side even once they rose from the bunk. They spoke quietly but mostly of superficial things, although they spoke also of the reasons for Jan leaving the Order, and his actions since. Many of Jan’s complaints were things that Obi-Wan too had noticed, but he had never felt confident enough as a young Knight to broach such topics with the revered Masters of the Council, and as he had felt the Order and Temple his home, the idea of leaving in protest had been almost too painful to contemplate.

At Jan’s residence, Jan blushingly installed Obi-Wan in his own large but simple suite of rooms, not those unlike a Master and Padawan team at the Jedi Temple would share. The rooms were elegantly furnished, the materials rich but the style ascetic. The walls adorned with large elegant geometric tapestries, the furniture simple. A few plants and artifacts - including pyramidal Sith holocrons - from ancient temples provided the only other decor. Despite the Dark nature of the artifacts, they did not entice Obi-Wan, at least not more than any other object of similar age might.

Each morning Jan and Obi-Wan meditated together, and then Obi-Wan attended to Jan throughout the day, watching the former Jedi govern, and gently advising him. Jan, rather to Obi-Wan’s surprise, was quite open to suggestion and critique. To not be, Jan reminded Obi-Wan when Obi-Wan brought it up, would be the height of hypocrisy, as his main dispute with the Council and Order was their intractable loyalty to the Code and their unquestioning obedience to the Senate. And each night - well. The intimacy was pure pleasure for both men, even on the nights when they only slept curled in one another’s arms.

They trained daily in ‘saber forms, Obi-Wan practicing his Soresu techniques to keep in shape, but also learning Makashi at the hand of a Master of that elegant form. Their duels were surprisingly even, and left both of them in high spirits no matter who won. Cooling down after, they would walk in the extensive gardens, sometimes talking about Qui-Gon, other times about variances in Jedi and Sith philosophy. Obi-Wan found his new Master to be an exceptionally learned man, and happily spent hours reading in silence with him in the extensive library. He read anything and everything, even Sith texts, curious as to how they differed from the Jedi sources he was familiar with.

It didn’t take long for Obi-Wan to be confident he was where he was most needed. The more he and Jan debated philosophy and governance, the brighter the Light in Jan grew. While redeeming the Sith had not been Obi-Wan’s goal, he felt it a worthwhile endeavour. It helped that during his solo meditations, he felt no Darkness encroaching on his own soul, only the rightness of the path he had stepped onto. So he continued, gently teasing information out of Jan, and granting him acceptance and affirmation in turn. 

Obi-Wan needed no convincing of the corruption in the Senate, he had never been one to trust politicians. There were exceptions of course; he trusted Bail Organa and Padme Amidala and a few others, perhaps not implicitly, but at least with the safety of the Republic and the good of their own constituents. His belief in Dooku’s claim that there was a Sith in the Senate, in the heart of the Republic, Obi-Wan saw, eased the elder man’s mind incredibly. It also made Obi-Wan wonder how many others Dooku had tried futilely to warn. 

In truth, Obi-Wan’s only regret was leaving Anakin behind. While it was true he hadn’t felt ready to be Knighted, nor ready to take on a Padawan when Anakin was first entrusted to his care, he had done his best, and come to care deeply for Anakin. He was well aware that Anakin wouldn’t take the separation well, but at the same time, he had been increasingly uncertain about his influence over Anakin. The past few months, it had seemed as though the only time they weren’t arguing was when they were fighting back to back. 

How would things have gone, Obi-Wan wondered some nights before he slept, curled in Jan’s strong arms, if Anakin had been at his side rather than off protecting Senator Amidala? Would he have fought Jan? Would he have listened? Would Jan even have tried to talk to him, or would they have engaged at crossed ‘sabers immediately? It troubled Obi-Wan; he could feel with certainty that his place for now was at Jan’s side. And it was not a position he could fill with Anakin at his own side. Which meant that his separation from Anakin was for the best, that perhaps their partnership wasn’t best for either of them. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan asked one evening as they read after late-meal, setting aside his treatise on the Cult of Darth Sion as venerated by the Baran Do Sages of Kel Dor.

“Hmmm,” Jan answered, looking up from his own reading. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile fondly at his partner, who had raised a single silver eyebrow over his reading glasses in question. 

“I am certain the Force wills me to remain at your side, and yet I cannot help but regret abandoning my Padawan,” Obi-Wan confessed. “I know I am where I am needed, and yet -” he broke off with a sigh. “He needs me too. He is a proud boy, and he will not take my abandonment well, especially not now, not when he’s been dreaming his mother’s death.”

“I agree that the Force has placed you here with me,” Jan said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is a lesson for both you and young Skywalker; you speak of attachment dear one.”

“And are not you and I attached?” Obi-Wan asked, somewhat bemusedly.

“I am tremendously attached to you dear one,” Jan said fondly. “But I no longer claim to be a Jedi, nor in obedience to Code and Council.” Obi-Wan let out a soft huff of laughter at that. No, his lover was no Jedi, although Obi-Wan doubted if he was truly a Sith either. He might not be wholly Light, but neither was he wholly Dark. A Grey Jedi perhaps, in the truest sense.

“Perhaps it is a title I must renounce as well then, as I too am attached to you,” Obi-Wan said just as fondly, and crossed to kneel at Jan’s feet, taking the older man’s weathered but still strong hands in his. “I will never regret choosing to come with you, my Master,” he promised, eyes looking up warmly at Jan as he kissed the older man’s knuckles. 

“Oh, dear one,” Jan murmured fondly, and leaned down to kiss Obi-Wan’s forehead. “I have no answer dear one. As I said, perhaps this is part of a lesson the Force wills. I have heard my Master speak of young Skywalker often. I believe he has intentions to try and turn the boy, and has perhaps already started. If you are attached, your affection might blind you to the boy’s faults. Perhaps the oversight of another Master is needed.” 

Obi-Wan sighed at that. The statements, although they hurt, rang with truth. He leaned against Jan, shifting slightly to rest his head on Jan’s broad shoulder. Jan smiled down at the copper head, reaching up to gently run his fingers through Obi-Wan’s soft hair. Obi-Wan shifted under the caress, kissing Jan’s neck briefly, then nuzzling against him.

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan admitted after a while, luxuriating in the physical affection. “You are right that I was too young when I took charge of him. I’ve done my best, but I’ve long felt my influence over him waning. I thought of Qui-Gon as my father in some ways, and I could never be that to Anakin. The past few years he’s sought my approval yes, but he’s also - I don’t know how to put it - he’s dismissive of my advice, arrogant and yet insecure.”

“The whole Republic knows he is proclaimed the Chosen One, that would drive any boy his age to arrogance,” Jan said dryly, continuing to card his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair, feeling how it soothed and comforted the younger man. In truth, it comforted him too, knowing there was someone who loved him, who would miss him when he was gone and remember him fondly. “I imagine he has begun agitating for his trials?”

“Yes, for some time now, but there’s no way he’s ready. I’ve quietly pushed him forward on some of our less critical missions, ceded control to him, and while he hasn’t failed outright, he hasn’t managed the responsibility well, either,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Perhaps you’re right, and he needs tempering under another Master. I’ve done my best for him, but it’s clear that isn’t enough.”

“You have done well by him, but how can you teach someone with whom you have so little in common dear one? He may have been trained at the Temple for some years now, but he does not have the same foundations you did, and to teach him under the assumption that he does, does no one good. I’m sure you have realized this and combated it the best you could, but with you so often called from the Temple, I imagine keeping a steady course of study is all but impossible,” Jan said gently. 

Obi-Wan nodded. It was true that it was hard for Anakin to keep up with his coursework due to their busy duty schedule, and even when they did have extended periods in the Temple, Anakin was dismissive of ‘book learning.’ His Padawan enjoyed their missions, enjoyed seeing new places and getting into (and usually out of ) dangerous scrapes. Obi-Wan preferred missions where no blood was shed, no battle was offered. 

In many ways, they weren’t a good match, Obi-Wan admitted to himself. Both of them had issues with their anger, but having learned over the years to control his emotions instead of letting them control him, Obi-Wan had found himself with the unenviable task of teaching his Padawan that skill. Unfortunately, while Obi-Wan had accepted from a young age that his volatility was a liability he needed to counter, Anakin didn’t seem to understand that he was a danger to himself and those around him when he let his heart hold sway over his head.

“Sometimes I think Qui-Gon must be laughing at me from the afterlife, for having blessed me with such a Padawan,” Obi-Wan said fondly, and Jan chuckled, scratching gently at Obi-Wan’s scalp until Obi-Wan practically purred with pleasure, burrowing against Jan’s side affectionately. 

“It is this way in our lineage I fear,” Jan said warmly. He hugged Obi-Wan closer, continuing to play with his long ginger hair. “We are all as difficult and hard headed as one another.” Obi-Wan snorted, but said nothing further. After a few minutes, Dooku realized his beloved apprentice had fallen asleep. “Good,” Dooku murmured, not stopping the soothing motions of his hand through Obi-Wan’s hair even as he bent to kiss Obi-Wan’s temple. 

It had been clear to Jan from the start that Obi-Wan was stressed and overtired, and the time since arriving at Serenno had given Obi-Wan a much needed chance to recover from years of overwork. The bruised hollows under his eyes had finally started to fade, and the gauntness in his cheeks was filling in as well.

Obi-Wan awoke a while later when Jan shifted slightly, and sat up with a flush. His movement dislodged Jan’s hand from where it had still been idly stroking through his hair, and Obi-Wan was again overcome with fondness for Jan. Looking up, he smiled upon seeing that Jan was watching him with clear affection. 

The Force sang. 

No, he had chosen the correct path. He might regret his mis-steps with Anakin, but his once-Padawan was no longer his primary concern. His place was with Jan now. Leaning up, Obi-Wan kissed Jan deep but slow. Jan kissed back readily, tugging Obi-Wan up into his lap. 

“Bed,” Obi-Wan directed huskily when they parted, and Jan swallowed thickly, flushing and nodding. They rose almost in unison, heading back to their bed chambers. Jan raised his hands to remove his cloak when they reached their rooms, and Obi-Wan gently batted his hands away, then began slowly undressing Jan himself, kissing and gently stroking every centimetre of pale skin he revealed. Jan was trembling like a leaf by the time Obi-Wan had him fully bared, and Obi-Wan gently led Jan to the bedside, then knelt at his feet. 

“My Master,” Obi-Wan murmured, and bowed his head nearly to the floor, kissing Jan’s toes and long feet and the bony knobs of his pale ankles. He kissed up long, lean calves and earned a whimper when he sucked a small bruise on the inside of Jan’s left knee. Jan sat hurriedly as Obi-Wan’s tongue laved a wet and winding path around his patella, and Obi-Wan smiled up at him, then pushed his legs open to accept the width of Obi-Wan’s muscular shoulders. Jan moaned softly as Obi-Wan’s mouth worked up the insides of his thighs, and by the time Obi-Wan licked up the underside of Jan’s shaft, Jan was dribbling precome from the tip of his painfully hard cock. 

“My wise and handsome Master,” Obi-Wan said, and sucked Jan down to the root. Jan swore, hands fisting in the covers as he strained not to buck into Obi-Wan’s mouth. Despite how many times Obi-Wan had done this, so beautiful, and so willing, a small part of Jan was baffled every time, overawed that this incredible man could desire him. Jan closed his eyes against the pleasure, against the overwhelming love that flared through him. He gave himself over to it, and when he could bear to open his eyes again, he was flat on his back, Obi-Wan nestled against his chest. 

“Oh beloved,” Jan said sadly. “I love you so much Obi-Wan, and all I do is place burdens on your shoulders.”

“Hush,” Obi-Wan said sternly, leaning up to kiss Jan. Jan moaned softly at the taste of his seed in Obi-Wan’s mouth, his brain shorting briefly. “I shoulder no burden I cannot bear,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “If I was opposed to standing with you, I would have told you so on Geonosis. If I did not want you in my bed I would not have kissed you. Every burden you have offered I have gladly accepted, and your love, our love is never a burden, but a gift. The Force is with us beloved, can you not feel it? Can you not feel that we were meant to be at one another's sides?” 

Jan opened himself to the Force as Obi-Wan directed, and was amazed to see his own being was no longer corrupted with the shadow of the Dark side. Obi-Wan’s Light burned at his side, as bright as ever, undiminished by the responsibilities he had shouldered as Jan’s second. The Force willed this, Jan slowly began to accept. The Force had placed Obi-Wan in his path, had provided the helpmate he had so desperately needed as he was drowning in Darkness. It was too much and utterly perfect, and Jan came apart under Obi-Wan’s loving gaze. As always, Obi-Wan reached out, enveloping Jan in compassion, and leading him on toward Light.


End file.
